United
by bubbles-311
Summary: This will be my fourth reaping, but this year is special." The 78th annual Hunger Games are about to begin, but this year there's a difference...Read on to find out more! CF disregarded. Rated T for safety.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Do not read the following comment if you have not read Catching Fire: I know that after CF District 12 doesn't exist anymore, but it really needs to exist for this to work so figure something out, so the whole of CF is disregarded.  
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**Disclaimer: The only things I own in the following story are things that you don't recognise from HG or CF.**

_Prologue_

_During lunch break in the orchards, all of the children from district 11 aged 12 to 18 gather round the same tree, the adults oblivious to the meeting being held. "Right." A boy with brown hair and green eyes takes charge, not speaking too loudly for fear of alerting the adults. "It's only a week till the Reaping. We've established contact with all the other districts, and they've all agreed. Is everyone aware of the plan?" All of the children nod, and a small girl takes over. "I'll volunteer for the girls and Rowan will volunteer for the boys. If you get reaped, try to act how you would normally act if you were chosen, and act relieved when we volunteer." Everyone nods again, and the boy says, "Good. Now all we have to do is wait till next week. This year, the odds _will _be in our favor."_

**A/N: This is not actually the first chapter, it just needs to be here to set up the story.  
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	2. The Reaping

I wake up, stretching my arms and legs. It takes me a moment to realise that today is the day of the reaping. This will be my fourth reaping, but this year is special. This year, I am definitely going in the arena.

I dress in the green skirt and white blouse embroidered with flowers that I wear every reaping. It almost brings tears to my eyes, as I remember the first person to wear this outfit for a reaping. My sister, Rue. She would be sixteen this year, if she hadn't died brutally in the Games. This year, though, I am avenging her death, not against the boy who killed her, but against the people who made that boy kill her. The Capitol.

The time to gather in the square approaches rapidly, and as I saunter over to the area for the fifteen year olds, I catch Rowan's gaze. _We ready? _I mouth the words as inconspicuously as I can. He nods back, just a slight movement, and smiles a little. I smile back, knowing what's coming.

Our escort, Olaf, is sporting bright green hair this year. It was blue last year, and the year before that, and as many years back as I can remember. I think it looked better blue. The green hair, combined with his slightly yellowy skin and plump belly, makes him resemble a pineapple. I stand next to Lavender, one of my best friends. I whisper the thought about a pineapple to her, and she attempts to smother her giggles. I poke her in the ribs as the mayor stands up and begins talking. The same old 78 year old speech about the rebellion, the Hunger Games being a punishment, blah blah blah. Finally, it ends, and Olaf steps forward. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds-" I catch Rowan's eye and we both mouth "be _ever _in your favor." He walks towards the glass ball containing the girls names. "Lassiandra Kendall!" Lassie! My sister! I almost panic, when I realise this gives me an _extremely _good excuse to volunteer. I play my part well. "Lassie! No! Lassie!" I run up towards the steps and in front of Lassie, who is doing an extremely good job of looking scared. "I volunteer! I volunteer!" A lot of the adults are looking surprised, but Olaf looks delighted. We almost never get volunteers in district 11. "Excellent! What is your name?" I would love to stare him straight in the eye, but I get the feeling that might not go down too well. Instead, I look at his nose for a brief second, and then look down at the ground. "Azalea Kendall." He nods, and motions for me to stand to one side. I alternate between looking out at the crowd and looking down at my feet. Olaf bounces towards the ball with the boys names. "Rowan Lacarn!" Perfect! As we shake hands, I catch his eye and give a short smile, before dropping my gaze.

After we are taken to the Justice building, I receive a surprising amount of visitors between the ages of 12 and 18. They all say the usual things– "I hope you make it home"– "Promise you'll win"– "I'll be watching you the whole time"– but behind every one of their eyes is a mixture of pride, cunning, and success. The last person to visit is Lassie, and she doesn't say anything before she has tied around my neck a small wooden flower on a string made of grass. This was Rue's district token. When she hugs me, she whispers into my ear, "Remember why you're doing this." She gives my one last hug before the Peacekeepers usher her out, and I'm left to ponder the enormity of what I'm about to do.


	3. The Train

**A/N: I realise I haven't done a disclaimer, so–**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own THG. If I did, it would be a lot weirder.**

When we are shepherded onto the train, I do all I can not to stand there, drooling on the carpet, trying to take it all in. Everything is either decorated or plush, and when we are told to go "freshen up" before lunch, I do stand in the doorway of my quarters, staring. I admire everything, even the door, which is made out of what looks like oak and is polished so much I could practically use it as a mirror. I wonder how the people in the Capitol live like this. I know I should be overwhelmed, but somehow I am faintly repulsed. These people sleep on mattresses thicker than all my family's piled on top of each other. They seem to not know anything beyond comfort and luxury.

I decide to have a shower, but when I do I am completely unprepared for what I see. All three walls and the door are covered in buttons, with labels so tiny you almost need a magnifying glass to read them. After an interesting experience during which I pressed a few buttons at random and found myself squirted alternately by hot water and cinnamon scented soap, I dry off and select, from the assortment of clothes available in the wardrobe, a pair of denim pants and a green top. I make sure I fold Rue's reaping clothes, and after putting them on a chair near the bed, I decide to go out to the main area. It's time to meet my mentor.

I give Rowan what I hope is a friendly smile before sitting down. Sitting at the table is Olaf and the two district 11 mentors. They are the only surviving victors out of the five that we've had in seventy eight Hunger Games. Basil, the male mentor, won the Hunger Games seventeen years ago, and Kokam won only two years ago. I guess Kokam will be working with me and Basil with Rowan. Olaf smiles and motions for me to sit down, so I do. I look at him expectantly, and he chuckles. "My my, aren't we eager. Well, let's discuss it over lunch." As soon as he said this, a servant–I guess an Avox– appears with a huge, and by huge I mean enough to feed my entire family of seven for at least two days, plate of food. There is a bird which looks like a groosling, but is slightly larger, and covered in a reddish-pink sauce. There is a salad, a loaf of white Capitol bread, a smaller plate stocked with more kinds of butters and jams than I knew existed, and a huge bowl of some kind of fruits. I stare at it in wonder, and when I look up at Olaf he just smiles. A second Avox brings plates, cutlery and cups full of light brown liquid. I take a sip, but spit it out onto the carpet as soon as it passes my lips. Olaf is looking at me with a disgusted expression, and in my own defense I say, "That stuff is disgusting!" At this he raises an eyebrow. "That coffee was brewed all the way in district 8... but no matter, no matter. Well, time to formally introduce you to your mentors! Azalea, you'll be working with Kokam. You'll remember her, she won the Hunger Games only two years ago! And Rowan, you'll be with Basil, victor of the 61st Hunger Games. We won't discuss strategy now; after lunch you will each have private sessions with your mentors." All through this I stare at him in fascination; he hasn't taken a breath since he started, and he's going a rather strange shade of beetroot. Evidently Rowan has noticed this as well, because he's trying not to laugh, but is succeeding only in pulling a face which looks like he's just smelt something awful. The combination of Olaf and Rowan's face means I have to literally bite my lip to keep from bursting out in laughter.

After lunch, which also included a second course and dessert, we depart to have "private sessions" with our mentors. Kokam, who won two years ago when she was sixteen, is now only three years older than me. She resembles Rue a little, but has different eyes. While Rue's were dark, shiny brown; hers are grey, but bright. When we reach the "mentor room", she gets straight to the point. "So, Azalea, what are your strengths?" I think for a second. I can climb and run fast. I could run faster than Rue. I'm also pretty good with a knife. I can hit within ten centimetres of my target when I throw them nine times out of ten. "I can climb, and I'm a fast runner. I can throw knifes pretty well." She smiles, and says to me, "Not a damsel in distress at all, are you? That's what Olaf would have us believe." Olaf's been spreading rumors about me? She seems to sense my anger, and says to me, "Don't worry about it. If anyone else gets word of it, it might give you an advantage." I almost spill our secret right then, but manage to grit my teeth and say nothing. One thing I know, though, is that I like Kokam.


	4. The Opening Ceremony

**A/N: This chapter might be a bit rushed, but hopefully it's still bearable. Won't update til I get at least 1 more review!**

**Disclaimer: THG belongs to Suzanne Collins. I just play around in the scarily real universe she created.**

After arriving in the Capitol, we go to get ready for the opening ceremony. When I meet my prep team, I wonder if these are actually people. Augustus, the main prep guy, has violet hair, Julki has slightly bluish skin, making her look like she just spent the night in a gigantic freezer, and Flavia would look almost normal if her eyes weren't purple and one arm was tanned and the other pale. After an hour of being scrubbed, bathed and worst of all, having all my body hair ripped off with a bunch of sticky strips, I'm ready to murder them all. How can they do this to themselves? It's inhumane and completely pointless, not to mention disgusting. Eventually I get told I can wait for my stylist to come and de-brief me on tonight's costume. The Opening Ceremony. Usually, our tributes end up in some kind of long, straight costume trying to resemble a corn cob or something like that. I pray that this year will be better.

I'm just finishing this thought when a man walks in. He looks about thirty. His hair is tinted slightly reddish, but it looks almost normal. "Hello, I'm Mara. I"ll be your stylist." Ok. This I can handle. "Hi, I'm Azalea." He circles me, taking in every centimetre. "Why don't you put on your robe and we'll have a chat." I decide that this guy isn't so bad. At least he doesn't look like a pineapple.

The Opening Ceremony is about to begin. Most of the afternoon was spent devoted to my costume, a long, sleeveless dress, but flowing. At the bottom it's a kind of murky, chocolate brown, which then separates, like a tree's branches, at my waist, against a background of dappled green. On my arms are painted intricate little leafs, connected to each other by vines. My hair is loose except for two bits at the front, one on either side, which are looped back and fastened at the back of my head, and leaves decorating where it meets. At my side, Rowan is dressed in brown trousers, the same colour as the bottom of my dress, and a shiny green shirt, with leaf patterns on it, but only slightly darker, so when the light catches his shirt, they become visible. He has leaves on his arms as well. I realise we are not representing the products, the fruit and vegetables and so on, but the trees. I wish Rue could see me now, she would have loved this. Our chariot rolls out, and I feel the crowd look at us. I wave, and smile, and they love this. At my side, out of the corner of my eye, I can see Rowan almost mimicking my movements. I blow a kiss to the crowd, and they actually leap to catch it. I keep doing this, waving, smiling, blowing kisses, until we are out of sight. I turn to look at Rowan, and realise that I was holding his hand. I pull away, and smile. "I think we've got it!" I smile again he replies, "Yep. We're good." When we are shown the replay, I'm surprised at how creative most of the costumes are. I think Cinna, the stylist for district 12, is beginning to rub off on everyone. District 12 has re-used the fire theme this year, district 4's female tribute is beautiful in a knee length, strapless blue dress, I guess to represent the sea, and district 1 is still sparkly, but they also have an extra touch; the girl has a long headdress that falls to her waist, inset with some kind of jewels. It must weigh a lot, but the effect is magical. But I'm surprised at how young I look. I look about thirteen. Even so, we are striking. My dress does actually resemble a willow tree, with its swaying branches and soft, dappled, flowing leaves. We made an impression, and that's all we need.


	5. Training

**Disclaimer: THG belongs to Suzanne Collins. The only things I own are Azalea, Rowan, the plot and anything else you don't recognise in the story.**

When I wake up the next morning, I find a set of clothes on the chair by my bed. I put on the brown trousers, yellow shirt and leather boots and go out to the main area to find Kokam waiting for me. I sit down and ask, "Where are the others?" She offers me a mug of dark brown liquid and replies, "Olaf has decided to train you two separately. You'll be with me and Rowan will be with Basil and Olaf." I smile at the thought of Rowan being stuck with Olaf. I peer suspiciously into my mug. It looks like the awful brown liquid I had yesterday, but it smells different. "It's called hot chocolate. It's sweet." I look up at Kokam, who smiles encouragingly. "Try it." Tentatively I take a sip, and it's so good I don't touch anything else in front of me until I've drained the mug. Kokam's been watching me, and when I put the mug down she says, "So, Azalea–" I decide I like her enough to tell her my nickname. "Lea. Just Lea."

"Ok, Lea, you'll begin training at ten o' clock. There'll be lots of choices, so focus on something you haven't done before, like knots, spears, camouflage, anything. You will train until two, with a lunch break at twelve. Remember, your life may depend on what you learn here." Once again, I almost spill our secret, but I know what would happen if anyone knew.

When we get to the Training Centre, there _are _lots of choices. After being gathered in a circle by one of the assistants, who tells us things we already know, such as don't fight against another tribute, and so on, we start. I look around, and see that everyone is being careful not to appear to familiar with anybody. I walk over to the station with the knives, which has three others already on it. I pick up a knife and throw it at the target. It sticks in the bullseye. I look sideways at a red-haired girl, who gets in the ring just outside the bullseye. Since I figure for the plan to work really well we should know each other a little, I decide to introduce myself. "Azalea, district 11." I say it in an undertone, so the Capitol official doesn't hear. She replies in the same tone, "Amber, district 1." I look at her, astounded. She doesn't seem like all the Careers I've seen every other year. She gives a bitter smile, and says, "Yeah, well, not everyone is our district is a Glimmer Byran." She's referring to the female tribute of district 1 in the 74th Hunger Games. I smirk a little at this and say, so quietly I can barely hear myself, "You know, right?" She nods inconspicuously and merely says, "Jabberjays are amazing." Yes, they are. I remember how we trained three jabberjays that we found in the orchards to speak to others, then come back to us. That's how we communicated with the other districts. So, I guess you could say that we started the plan. The good news is that district 1 is the furthest away from us, so if they got the message then everyone else did, too. "Does everyone here agree?" She nods again, saying, "I've talked to everyone."

At lunch, I sit with Rowan, Amber, the girl from 2, the boy from 7 and a boy I don't recognise. I introduce myself, and I learn that the girl from 2's name is Cassie, the boy from 7 is Jikal, and the other boy, who is from 9, is Hyssop. They all agree entirely with the plan, and over the next two days, in training and at lunch, I talk to everyone, and they all agree. During training I learn how to tie knots, how to distinguish toxic from non-toxic plants, and how to use a bow and arrow. I decide for my private session, which is in an hour, I'll throw some knives. I spend the rest of the time practising knives. I've been going a while, when I see Cassie standing, watching me. Rowan, Amber, and Cassie have become my closest friends here, so I smile at her. "What's going on?" She winces a little, and comes closer. "Every time I see you hit the target, I think of Clove." Clove? The Clove who was in the 74th Hunger Games? I guess Cassie is from district 2. "Did you know her?"

"Yeah. You could say that." Wait. Something's not right. "Cassie..."

"She was my sister." _Clove? Cassie? Sisters? _ Cassie is one of the funniest people I've met, and Clove... well, she was pretty violent, let's leave it at that. "Yeah, I know, you can't believe it. Well, it's true. She was trained in the Training Centre back home and well... she got a bit excited. Begged Mum to let her volunteer. When Mum told her she couldn't, she volunteered any way. I think she thought she was doing the right thing. I think she thought teaming up with the Careers would help her to come home." Silence. I look at Cassie, and she looks pained. "I'm ashamed of the way my sister killed all those people, but she was still my sister." So someone else had a sibling in the Games before. And Clove was in the same Games as Rue. "Well, you know Rue?" She nods. "She was my sister." Cassie gasps. "I'm sorry..."

"It's ok. It wasn't your fault she died, or your sisters. And nothing your sister did was your fault, either." Cassie nods. "Well then, we'll do this for both our sisters."

**A/N: Hmmm...didn't turn out quite how I expected it to, but oh well. Please review! Reviews are my cyber version of sugar and I DESPARATELY NEED THEM!! Just click on the little green button. It wants you to press it. It will be really disappointed if you don't press it.**


	6. Training Scores

**Disclaimer: THG belongs to Suzanne Collins. I only own Azalea, Rowan and the plot.**

**A/N: I'm really sorry I haven't updated in AGES. I meant to, but I just...didn't. Anyways, read and review anyway please!**

My private session with the Gamemakers is going to be any minute now. Rowan went in about five minutes ago, so now there's just me and the tributes from 12, Anise and Shiso. We talk a little, but not too much for fear of alerting the Gamemakers. Eventually Rowan comes out of the hall, and gives me a gentle slap on my shoulder before entering the elevator. I take a deep breath and walk in.

It becomes clear that the Gamemakers have had a bit too much wine and have sat through a few too many demonstrations. I just hope they're paying enough attention to me to actually judge. I walk over to the knives and choose one. I throw it at the target, and it hits the bullseye. I pick up another and throw again. It hits slightly above the first one. I realise that this isn't going to be very impressive, so I walk to the middle of the gym with four knives. The first one I throw into the suspended dummy used for boxing. Then I throw another. It severs the rope holding up the dummy and it crashes to the floor and explodes, spraying sand everywhere. I turn around and throw the third knife into the rack holding up the knives. It lands in a slot, as if I had walked over and put it there. The fourth one I throw into a human silhouette in the shooting range. It punctures the dummy right where it's heart would be and it falls to the ground with a crash. I look over at the Gamemakers, who are nodding. "Thank you, Azalea. You may go." Slightly dissatisfied with this, I hesitate a moment, until a woman who is rather plump jerks her head towards the door. I realise I should probably leave, so I make a slight bow and exit.

Back on our floor, I almost immediately come across Kokam, who was obviously waiting for me. "Well?"

"I threw some knives until they said I could go." She looks slightly disbelieving, but she only says, "Ok. How do you think you went?" I hesitate a moment. How did I go? I was good, I know that, but was I good enough? "I think I went ok. I hit all of my targets." She nods, and motions for me to come into the sitting room. I do, and we talk strategy for a while, before Basil decides to teach us a game called Poker. You have funny little round chips, and you gain or lose them depending on what cards you have. I thought it was rather silly, but played anyway. Dinner had just been delivered when the results of the training started flashing up. The pairs from 1, 2, and 4 have all got in the seven to nine range, even though this year they're not technically Careers. The rest of the scores are pretty average, except for Jikal, who got a nine, and the girl from 10, who got an eight. Rowan pulls a seven, which is pretty good. Then it's my name, and the number ten flashes on the screen. Rowan whoops, and Kokam slaps me on the back. "Nice!" I smile, because everyone who scored well today, including me, scored well for the wrong reasons. Mara smiles and says, "Your interview dress is going to be fantastic!" His eyes are glazed over, and he has a slightly goofy smile on his face. I wonder what it's going to be, but I guess I'll have to wait till tomorrow to see.

After dinner I don't feel like going to sleep, so I have a quick shower and then wander out. I discover that I can get to the roof of the Training Centre via a set of stairs next to the elevator. I walk over to the edge and lean on the railing. The Capitol is lit up the the stars in the sky below me. I wonder if these people let their children watch the Games. It's not mandatory here. I wonder if those children that do watch understand that we are just like them. Do those parents know how it feels, every year, to be afraid that one of your children will be taken away and killed? Do they realise what we in the districts go through? Yes, some of them must. Some of them must be still human inside.

**A/N: Hate it? Love it? Don't care which, but please review anyway! Just so you know, the little green button asked me to pass on a message: It says thank you to the people who pressed it last time, but it wants more people to press it. Just remember, it will be really disappointed if you don't press it.**


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